Blind Beneath Amentum
by marigoldgumi
Summary: Alfred cannot think of anywhere more beautiful than his home – a truly perfect paradise. But when the dark man with a strange smile takes him away, the world is seen with new eyes. And though Alfred hates it all his being, he cannot stop coming back for more. SHOTA, NON-CON, FULL WARNING INSIDE.
1. The Trap

**Hullo~ this is **_**Blind Beneath Amentum, **_**a birthday fanfiction for my friend Teh Llamainator, who is awesome by the way. If you like RusAme and 2ps, go read her fanfic. NOW. Also, I'm sorry dude. This is slightly late :(**

**This fanfiction is hardcore shit! If you don't like, don't read. Read the warnings before you continue on. If you flame, you have wasted everyone's time, and made a jackass of yourself. Congratulations. **

**However, if you have any constructive criticism, don't be shy! I'd especially appreciate help with the lemons, since this is the first real sex scene I've written…**

_**WARNINGS: SWEARING, KIDNAPPING, SHOTA, RAPE, NON-CON, BDSM**_

**Disclaimer: Do people even need these? I mean, this is fanfiction…**

_-_-ϔ -_-_

If there was one thing Alfred was certain of, it was that he lived in heaven. Not the kind of heaven where pretty girls in white dresses played the harp and lounged around on clouds - no, Alfred's heaven was surely far superior. Girls were nice, but how could they even compare to the endless blue sky, the snow-tipped mountains in the distance, the rolling beryl hills, the bitterroot blossoms on the edge of gurgling streams? It just wasn't fair for those maidens.

Of course, Alfred knew his nirvana wasn't perfect. Winter did not avoid their doorstep. School was no less dull than it was for anyone else. His family members were far from ideal. And the west side of the town… that's where the men with too many clothes promised you all the candies in the world with a sickly sweet smile and the gesture of a hand, and the women who were not dressed enough hung off telephone poles, begging with their eyes. Still, Bluebird Valley was perfect enough for young Alfred, and that was all that really mattered.

Today was one of those stereotypical perfect summer days. Alfred was laying beneath a willow tree- _the _willow tree. It grew on a hill overlooking the town. Most days, it was crowded with families armed with woven baskets and picnic blankets. Today, however, it seemed too hot for the majority (many of the families had young children who would turn the hue of boiled lobsters under the unforgiving sun), and Alfred had the spot all to himself. Even his younger brother, Matthew, who usually stuck it out to the bitter end to spend time with his brother, had long since escaped to the blissful air-conditioned safety of their house.

Alfred leaned against the tree, grabbing the bottled lemonade he had wisely brought with him. Unscrewing the cap, he took a deep gulp, wiping his mouth with a sigh. Though the quiet was nice, Alfred was actually quite lonely without Matthew, or any of his other friends. Alfred was by no means an antisocial person.

"It's quite hot out here, isn't it?" A voice commented offhandedly. Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin – as it was, he jerked hard enough to make lemonade slosh out of the bottle and onto Alfred's shirt. A low chuckle emanated from behind him, and Alfred whipped around to find the source.

A tall man stood behind Alfred, a smile spreading across his lips, amethyst eyes focused solely on the terrified boy. Though the man was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, a pale pink scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck. Alfred gave him a nervous smile, nearly crushing the plastic bottle in his fist. A fleeting thought crossed his mind – should he run away?

"Hello," the man said, his strange accent heavy on Alfred's ears, "I didn't mean to frighten you. I just wanted to meet someone new~!" The man giggled, and Alfred stared at him, mystified. What kind of six-foot giant giggled like a little girl? Nevertheless, he relaxed at the man's playful demeanor. He seemed about as terrifying as an oversized teddy bear. "My name is Ivan. I moved here not too long ago." Ivan walked up to Alfred, sitting next to him. "What's your name? Surely, a pretty boy like you must have a pretty name~"

Alfred frowned at that. "I'm not pretty! Girls are pretty, not boys." It then struck him that this man was probably a foreigner, and perhaps didn't know the difference between pretty and handsome. He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, anyhow, my name is Alfred…"

Ivan smile never wavered. "Alfred, is it? It's very nice to meet you, Alfred! Say, you look awful grown up. How old are you?"

Now there was a niggling suspicion at the back of Alfred's mind. What kind of a question was that? A fluttery feeling passed over Alfred's heart. He didn't like this – no, he did not like this at all. Perhaps if he lied, Ivan would back off… "Fourteen." Ivan's smile widened, and Alfred was struck by the sudden feeling that Ivan knew he was lying. Alfred stood abruptly, blurting "Uh, I need to get back to my place, yeah. My mom's expecting me to help her out with some party thing she's throwing. Crappy, right? Maybe we can talk later!" The last sentence came out as a squeak, and, not wanting to delay his heroic escape any longer, Alfred waved an awkward goodbye and began to descend the hill quickly.

As Alfred hurried down the hill, he wondered what would've happened if he had stayed. Alfred hated to be rude – heroes weren't buttheads after all – but the way that Ivan had asked that question… Alfred had watched enough kidnapping movies to know what the intentions of some of the creeps were. Even so, a guilty feeling started to well up in Alfred's chest. What if Ivan had just been trying to be genuinely nice? Was it simply some sort of cultural misunderstanding? Alfred stopped walking, gazing up at the sky. Maybe he could run back up the hill and apologize…

A firm hand grabbed his arm, and before Alfred had any chance to cry out, a wet cloth was pressed to his nose and mouth. Sweet-smelling gas hit him like a ton of bricks, and as his knees gave way, Alfred could've sworn he heard a dark chuckle before everything went black.

_-_-ϔ -_-_

The first thing that Alfred registered was that the entire room stank of cigarette smoke. Doubling over, the young boy started to cough violently, eyes watering as they flew open.

As he blinked away the tears, Alfred froze when he saw who was in front of him. Ivan was sitting in a wood chair that seemed to be too small for him. Gone were the shorts and t-shirt – he was clothed in a long, cream-colored trench coat. A thin metal pipe rested in his hands, and the ever-present smile widened when he saw Alfred's fear.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty~" Ivan purred, standing up and walking over to the quaking child. He raised the long pipe, tracing it against Alfred's cheek. The cold metal made Alfred flinch, and he tried to scramble away. Much to his horror, Alfred realized that his hands and feet were tied behind him, and the most he could do was an awkward wiggling motion. Ivan giggled at that, eyes running over Alfred's body, a hungry expression on his face. As the tall Russian moved closer to the young boy, Alfred did what most sane eleven-year-olds would do in that situation. He started to scream.

"HELP ME, SOMEONE HELP ME!" Alfred cried out, his voice shrill and piercing from terror. He sat up quickly, tugging furiously on the ropes around his wrists, to no avail. Ivan grimaced at the noise, hand shooting to Alfred's neck, startling the poor boy into silence. Tears began to run down Alfred's face. This wasn't how it happened in the movies. The hero always faced the villain in a great and epic battle, and even if the hero was captured, he'd escape in the nick of time and throw the bad guy into a pot of boiling acid. But it seemed too late for Alfred…

"Please don't hurt me," he begged, his voice cracking as he cried harder, "please! I-I'll do whatever you want! M-my parents have m-money! They can pay you!"

Ivan t'sked at the small boy, stroking his face with a gloved hand. Alfred winced at the touch, shying away. No! He had to be strong. He had to show this villain who was boss. He had to…

"Hmm, I do not think you understand, little Alfred! I don't want money. I want you, да?" Ivan clutched the boy's jaw, lifting up his head and exposing his neck. Ivan chuckled again, leaning down to place feathery kisses down the expanse of skin before he opened his mouth and gave a harsh bite.

Alfred cried out in pain, eyes widening at the unexpected action. "W-what are you _doing?!" _He shrieked. The tears that had almost stopped falling sprang up anew. Alfred tried to jerk his head back, but he found that he couldn't…

"Marking you! I want everyone to know you've been taken~!" Ivan practically sang. He lifted his head, placing a final kiss to Alfred's forehead. "Now, I'm going to leave you alone for a little while. I have to fetch some toys~. Little children like you love toys, don't they? Now, I don't want any funny business while I'm gone, да?" Ivan smiled once more at Alfred before leaving the room, his coat billowing slightly behind him.

Alfred sniffled, really beginning to look around him for the first time. The room was poorly lit, but what Alfred could see confused him. He was sitting on a hardwood table, and there were restraints on all four corners. The restraints were obviously made for adults, since Alfred wasn't big enough to be strapped in to all of them. His feet were naked, without any shoes or socks. The walls of the room reminded the boy of the Chinese palaces he'd seen in movies – red walls with golden dragons and symbols that might not mean anything. There were dressers and boxes of all sorts in the room, containing items of god knows what. An idea struck Alfred – he wouldn't be able to defeat Ivan physically, but perhaps he could outsmart him. If Ivan came back and Alfred wasn't there, he'd get confused and think that Alfred must've escaped. He'd storm off, searching for the boy, leaving the door open. Alfred, who had been hiding the whole time, would come out and escape through the door Ivan left open. Yes… Alfred could see it as clearly in his mind's eye as if he had already done it. He quickly looked around the room for somewhere to hide.

There! A small box, off to the corner of the room. Perhaps not the most convenient hiding spots, but one of the less obvious ones. Alfred half-wiggled, half-crawled until he was at the edge of the table. He took a deep breath, and then threw himself off the side.

THUMP. Alfred almost cried out at the impact. He lay there for a moment, twisting to see if he had broken anything. When he was certain that nothing had been broken (he was going to have an awful bruise on his hip, but that was the least of his problems at the moment), he began to inch across the floor towards the small box. Progress was painfully slow – literally. His hip ached and his head rung, no doubt from the after-effects of whatever drug Ivan had used to knock him out. Still, Alfred had to keep going. It probably didn't take long to fetch whatever "toys" Ivan had been talking about. Alfred shuddered. No doubt they were torture devices, ones used on spies and superheroes. Alfred didn't know if he could survive very long if Ivan used them on him.

Alfred gave the final pull as he reached the box, exhausted from moving in such a difficult way. He propped himself up on the box, panting slightly. Suddenly he froze. Were those… _footsteps? _With the last amount of energy he had, Alfred lifted the hinged lid off the box with his teeth, scrambling in and pulling the box shut at the last second. A moment later, he heard the door open. Alfred curled up on in himself, waiting breathlessly. This is where Ivan would get frustrated and angry, knock a few things over, and then leave in a hurry. Alfred could only hope that Ivan's eyes would pass over his hiding place…

There was a soft murmur as Ivan mumbled to himself. Alfred tried to breathe as quietly as possible, though his chest was constricted from his body being bent practically in half. The ropes were beginning to burn his wrists, and his legs were cramping. The footsteps were irregular as Ivan walked around the room. Drawers were pulled out, boxes were opened. Alfred was beginning to feel the panic now. What if Ivan found him? Surely he would make the torture even worse, and Alfred's death would be slow and painful...

That's when the footsteps became regular, growing softer and softer as Ivan walked away. Alfred sighed in relief. Thank god. That was too close... Pushing open the lid of the box, Alfred clambered out, as best he could. Ivan was nowhere in sight, and the door to freedom was wide open.

Alfred took a deep breath, looking around the room. There had to be something sharp around here somewhere… while it was true that Ivan could come back any second and Alfred should really hurry, things would go a lot quicker if he had access to both his hands and his legs…

Suddenly, all of the air was violently pushed out of Alfred's lungs as a vice-like grip wrapped around his torso. "Found you~" cooed an all-too familiar voice, "You really are just a маленький ребенок! Did you think you could outsmart me so easily?" Alfred was swung into the air and landed with a loud _thud _on the table. The sight of Ivan smiling down at Alfred was blurred slightly from the tears in his eyes that the boy refused to let fall. He wasn't going to let this Russian bastard get the better of him again.

Ivan chuckled at Alfred's expression, not failing to notice the boy's shiny eyes. Running a gloved finger along Alfred's jawline, Ivan tutted in disapproval. He had specifically told Alfred not to do any "funny business," and yet he still went and hid in the room. Of course Ivan had known that the boy hadn't escaped, and it was a relatively easy matter to pretend he had left and lure Alfred out, but he couldn't have his soon-to-be-pet disobeying him… though he had to give credit to Alfred for trying. And Ivan supposed it had been rather clever for a child…

Alfred watched nervously as Ivan rummaged around in his pocket, though his eyes never left Alfred's face. That's when Ivan pulled out a long, thin blade that looked sharp enough to cut through steel. A gasp escaped Alfred's lips at the sight of that knife, and he began to kick wildly at Ivan as well as he could while still tied up. Ivan grimaced at this, and he flipped Alfred over as effortlessly as someone might flip a pancake. When Alfred felt the cold metal against the skin on his wrist, screams tumbled from his lips, and he desperately began to tug at the ropes. Strong hands held down his, and the first cut was made.

Alfred stopped struggling, eyes widening in confusion. The ropes on his wrists began to fall away as Ivan diligently sliced through them, careful not to hurt the boy. Straining his neck, Alfred turned to look back at the man. Had he finally realized what he was doing was wrong? It seemed so unlikely that someone would randomly change their mind after going to the trouble to kidnap, transport and chase after their chosen victim. Ivan noticed the boy's stare, and he smiled at him. Alfred wasn't reassured, but nor was he apprehensive. Quite honestly, he didn't know what to think of the Russian anymore.

Ivan turned Alfred over, gently this time. "Such a good boy, to stop struggling~ Может быть, я не буду делать свое наказание настолько серьезными, так как вы решили сотрудничать." Alfred squirmed at the unfamiliar language washing over his ears, but didn't say anything. Ivan was probably a bipolar psychopath who could snap at any moment. Alfred was tiptoeing over a minefield, so to speak. He didn't want to do anything that could blow Ivan up.

Ivan picked up Alfred's hands, softly kissing the rope burns that were beginning to form on his wrists. After a moment of the gentle affection, he began to lap at the wounds, cooling them down. Alfred yelped at the sensation, shuddering softly. "What… what are you doing?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Ivan chose not to respond, instead giving Alfred's right wrist one final kiss before taking it firmly in his grip and pressing it down near the corner of the table.

It took Alfred a moment to realize what the Russian was doing. When he felt leather straps being tightened around his rope burns, it clicked. This time, he punched Ivan in the nose, hard as he could, yelling "Get OFF me!" Ivan jerked back from the force of the impact. Blood began to trickle down, staining his lips a dark red. Ivan hissed, just finishing the tightening of the leather strap, ignoring the blows Alfred was raining down on him with his unrestrained hand. When he had finished, he turned, grabbing Alfred's wrist, ignoring the shouts of pain.

"If you would just _cooperate, _it will be less painful for you later on, да?" Ivan squeezed the wrist a little tighter, causing Alfred to whimper in pain.

By this point, Alfred was on the edge of giving up. He had seriously though that he was going to escape, and when that was dashed, it had taken some serious blows on his hope. Maybe it was better just to be quiet, so his death wouldn't be quite so awful… Bloody imaged filled his mind, and his sky-colored eyes began to water with tears again. It seemed like he couldn't go five seconds without crying.

Still… it wasn't supposed to end like this. As Ivan tightened the strap around Alfred's wrists, the boy lay there quietly, eyes distant. He had always imagined himself dying in some exotic location, Hawaii maybe, sacrificing his life to save the world against some evil mad scientist, planning to take over the world. If not that, then at least dying to save someone he loved, like a pretty girl, or his sidekick Mattie. Not like this. Not at the hands of some petty criminal who probably both smoked weed and sold it.

Ivan leaned down, placing a kiss on Alfred's cheek. "So pretty," he murmured. The Russian couldn't wait to defile that beauty. Smiling at Alfred, he asked "Should we get out he toys now? I'm tired of waiting to play." Alfred stiffened a little at this, but didn't otherwise do anything. Ivan knew this stage. This was where the victim had given up hope, had mentally consigned themself to the scrap heap. Ivan knew the feeling all too well. He leaned down, reaching for the black bag he had brought in earlier.

As Ivan unzipped the bag and began to riffle through its contents, Alfred was tempted to close his eyes. After all, it would be best just to block out everything, but his instincts wouldn't let him. His eyes were steadily focused on the ominous black bag. Who knew what horrors it held?

So when Ivan began to pull out something, Alfred's breath hitched in anticipation. However, instead of pulling out a rusty saw, or a laser cutter, or a spiked ball, Ivan pulled out… well, Alfred wasn't quite sure _what _it was. It was a light blue color, made of transparent plastic. Long and shaped like several spheres stacked on top of each other, it didn't look like a particularly effective weapon. Yeah, it'd hurt if Ivan hit him with it, but no more than anything else…

Ivan chuckled at Alfred's confused expression. Children were so amusing sometimes. Putting the sex toy away, he reached for something that would be a little more useful at the moment.

Alfred didn't recognize the next item either. A big silver ring, with two black straps. This one, however, looked more ominous than the other, which actually looked a little silly. The feeling was only intensified when Ivan grabbed his jaw firmly, the look in his amethyst eyes almost maniacal.

"I want you to open that pretty mouth of yours, Alfred~ Keep in mind I have grown quite impatient and I don't want to wait any longer, especially over a шлюха like you." Alfred winced at the word. He didn't even know what it meant, and yet from the tone, he could tell that it had cruel meaning behind it.

When Alfred paused, Ivan brought his hand down hard on the boy's face, letting a _smack _resound around the room. Alfred cried out, eyes watering. He wasn't used to the feeling of being hit.

"Now will you open your mouth? Or do you want me to hit you again?"

"No," Alfred whimpered before letting his jaw go slack. Ivan grunted in approval as he slipped the ring gag into the boy's mouth, having to pull Alfred's jaw wider to fit it completely.

Alfred gasped as his mouth was spread painfully far. He felt his lip crack, and when he tried to lick it, he could barely manage it around the unforgiving steel ring. Ivan lifted his head, fastening the black straps so they secured the gag in place. Alfred supposed that explained the question of what it was.

"Alfredka… Can I call you that? Alfredka?" Alfred gave Ivan a look like _Do you seriously expect me to answer that?, _which made Ivan laugh. Even in probably the most traumatic moment of Alfred's young life, he still managed to be sassy. "Well, Alfredka, do you know what sex is?"

Alfred stared at Ivan, a blush spreading across his cheeks. _Sex? _Yes, of course Alfred knew what sex was. A year ago, his parents signed him up for this class that basically taught the kids all the medical reasons for sex and the different body parts that made it feel "good". The pictures had been gross, the atmosphere awkward, but Alfred supposed he had learned some things. But why was Ivan bringing that up? Did he want to make Alfred feel embarrassed _while _he tortured him? It seemed evil enough…

When Ivan saw Alfred's blush, he laughed. That was a "yes", he supposed. "So, Fredka, if you know what sex is, then you know what I'm going to do, don't you?"

There was a short pause as Alfred tried to process that. Ivan was going to have sex… with him? But wasn't sex for people who were a lot older than Alfred? Not to mention between a boy and a girl… A panicky feeling spread through Alfred. Ivan wasn't a killer – he was going to _rape _Alfred. He would be one of those girls on the news specials who cried and showed their children. Alfred didn't know if he could live that life, full of fear from physical contact, not to mention neglecting his heroic self to take care of a baby. Could he get pregnant? The idea terrified him. How would he give birth? What would his parents think? They'd think he was like one of those girls who sold their bodies on the streets…

Ivan hummed at the terrified face Alfred was making, grabbing the boy's shirt and pulling it up. He would rip it off, but that wouldn't work for what he was planning…

Alfred shivered as Ivan pushed up his shirt, both from the cold air and from the anticipation. Clearing his throat, he tried to speak. "Eeeahs, oen oo eeeeth." He whimpered as best he could. Ivan ignored the boy's attempt to speak, instead running a hand up his slightly-tanned skin, tweaking a pink nipple.

The sensation from that little pinch made Alfred squirm. It felt strange… like a shock wave had gone through him. A shock wave that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad… Alfred swallowed awkwardly. No, what was he thinking? If Alfred was going like it, Ivan wouldn't have bothered kidnapping him and just "done him" on top of the hill…

When Ivan noticed Alfred shiver, he chuckled slightly, tearing off his gloves with his teeth, so he could reach down and rub the rapidly hardening buds. Alfred couldn't hold back a pleasured gasp at that, and he arched his back off the table slightly. All of the sensations were so new to him… and that only magnified the feelings.

So when Ivan removed his hands from the pleasant massage he had been giving the boy, Alfred couldn't help but whine at the loss. The Russian smiled at that, knowing that Alfred would be making much different noises not too long from now.

Ivan once more reached for the bag, searching for one of his favorite "toys". When he felt the familiar smooth rope, he smirked, knowing that Alfred would be even more nervous now. And he was right. As he pulled out the cat o' nine tails, Alfred stiffened and his blue eyes widened. Ivan ran the weapon over Alfred's stomach, chewing his lip. Too bad he hadn't thought of tying Alfred so his ass would be in the air… that, after all, was the way to deliver the punishment for boys.

"Do you know what this is?" Ivan asked. He didn't even allow Alfred to make a noise before he went on. "It's a cat o' nine tails. This is one of my favorite toys~" Ivan's eyes drooped slightly as he imagined the boy, screaming every time Ivan whipped him, red marks spreading on his body… Ivan's pants became rather constricted. Oh yes. He had definitely picked a good one.

"Are you ready for your punishment, Fredka? I bet you'll love it, you сука петух сосание." Ivan licked his lips, raising his hand.

Alfred's entire body jerked as pain shot through his small body. A scream was ripped from his lips, and tears started to fall almost immediately. Through his haze of pain, Alfred could see the parallel red marks that appeared on his stomach and chest. It truly was like a cat had scratched him…

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Alfred screamed as the rope was brought down once more. Drool was slipping from the ring gag. Ivan paused for a moment, admiring how beautiful the boy was. Like a sunflower… hair like woven light, eyes like fallen sky, skin soft as silk… marred by the crimson slashes on his previously perfect body. The perfect imperfection… Ivan's hand found his crotch, and he gently palmed himself through his pants.

The snapping, the jerking, the cries. Music to Ivan's ears as he hit Alfred again and again. By now, the boy had lost all sense of reality, eyes glazed over, not seeing anything, not hearing anything, just feeling the pain. The thought of all that power over someone gave Ivan a dark thrill. Gritting his teeth, Ivan pulled his hand away from his own needs and started to pull down Alfred's pants, tossing them to the side.

Everything had become misty for Alfred. Every breath was an effort. Life had shortened itself to two points – during the whips, and between them. The boy barely noticed his pants and boxers being pulled away from his body, instead using the in-between time to look at one of the lash wounds. It hadn't broken the skin, but it hurt terribly…

Suddenly, Alfred gasped, arching his back for another time in so many minutes. Pleasure washed through him like the crashing of waves. Eyes flitted around the room, landing on Ivan. He was smiling at Alfred, eyes holding the boy's gaze as he slowly pumped the American's small cock.

Alfred had never felt anything like it in his life. It was like when Ivan had played with his chest… but times a thousand. Ivan's slightly rough hands rubbed over Alfred's prick, creating a beautiful friction that made Alfred snap his hips up. The screams had turned into moans, and even though every time he moved pain from the whip wounds would mix in with the pleasure, it somehow made everything even sharper. Precum was already dripping down Alfred's cock, and the boy could feel heat pooling in his abdomen.

This time, Alfred noticed the cat o' nine tails bearing down on him, but when it hit his chest hard, he gave a strangled cry somewhere between sob and a moan. White hot pain flashed through him, again and again. Ivan was picking up the speed of his hand now, every pump making a disgustingly lewd noise. The haze had returned, this time a confusing maelstrom of pain and lust. Ivan brought the whip down once more, squeezing the head and rubbing his finger inside of the slit of Alfred's prick. Alfred convulsed, screaming as best he could while gagged, and a viscous white liquid splattered on Ivan's hand. The boy fell back, nearly passing out from the intensity of his first orgasm.

Ivan was breathing hard as well as he pushed down his pants, wiping Alfred's cum off on the table. He wouldn't fuck the boy – no, not yet. He wanted that when the boy was as turned on as he. Awkwardly climbing over the almost-unconscious figure, he unstrapped the leather around Alfred's wrists, pulling him into a sitting position. Alfred looked drowsy, eyes distant, saliva running down his chin. Ivan wished that he had had his own bodily liquid cover his face as well – that would've been even more sexy. Pressing a quick kiss to Alfred's cheek, Ivan began to reach for the dreaded black bag again before changing his mind and simply dumping the contents all over the table. Ivan grabbed a pair of handcuffs – the real ones. Pulling off Alfred's shirt properly, he clipped the boy's hands in front of him. By now, Alfred was coming back to his senses, eyes blinking away the post-coital peace and wincing as Ivan tightened the cuffs a little too much. Ivan, seeing the boy's discomfort, loosened them. There was sexy hurt, and there was just plain unnecessary hurt.

"Get on your hands and knees." Ivan commanded, his usual kiddy tone all but gone. Alfred clumsily shifted positions, nearly losing his balance several times since both his hands and feet were restrained. He bowed his head, not looking at his rapist.

Ivan didn't comment on the boy's embarrassment, instead giving his aching length a few soft strokes. It quickly perked up at the thought of what he was about to do.

"I advise you to breathe through your nose," Ivan advised. When Alfred looked up at him in confusion, Ivan grabbed his jaw and slowly fit his throbbing need through the ring gag.

Alfred almost puked at the feeling of Ivan's cock in his mouth. It was disgusting, and Alfred would've bitten down if he could. However, the ring gag prevented that. Honestly, the only thing Alfred could do was crouch there, trying not to choke.

Ivan moaned as he finally got some relief, thrusting into the boy's mouth. He was careful not to choke Alfred – he didn't want puke all over his dick. So he went as deep as thought he could get away with, the warm, wet pleasure sending shivers down his spine. Alfred could barely control his salivating with both Ivan and the ring gag, and clear ribbons ran down his chin, coating Ivan's length.

Ivan picked up the pace of his rhythm, grabbing a white bottle from the mess of dubious items and popping the cap open. Slicking his fingers with the lube, he paused in his movement to bring his hand down to Alfred's face.

"What do you think of this smell, sunflower~?" he cooed. Alfred obediently sniffed the man's slick fingers. It smelled… all right, he supposed. Like mint.

When Alfred didn't really react, Ivan chuckled, starting his steady movement up again. He reached do Alfred's backside, rubbing the boy's soft prick as best he could in this position. Alfred moaned around his cock, sending hot vibrations through Ivan's body. Ivan couldn't hold back a gasp, thrusting deeper, squeezing Alfred, stroking him, teasing him…

Alfred couldn't believe what was happening. It was like his pleasure had taken over his body, and Alfred was watching from a small corner of his mind. He had begun to push back onto Ivan's all-too talented hand, moaning like… like a _whore_ around the Russian's cock. And no matter how much Alfred hated it, his body wanted more, more, more.

As Alfred began to snap his hips back on Ivan, the man chuckled. Really, this boy didn't know how lucky he was. Ivan was practically guiding the boy through his first time. He could have just spread Alfred's legs and fucked him like that, no preparation, no lube. Made him faint from pain and afraid of own shadow. No, no, Ivan wouldn't do that. He would always let people enjoy themselves.

A minty finger pushed into Alfred, being halted by the squeezing from that beautiful backside. "You might want to relax," Ivan grunted out, not stopping his movement.

When Alfred felt the finger push into him, he froze up, eyes widening. Yes, he knew what was about to happen. Anal sex, the teacher had called it… he clenched around Ivan's digit, stopping the bucking of his hips. It didn't hurt, not like the cat o' nine tails… just felt… weird, not in the good way. Ivan told him to relax, and, breathing as deeply as he could with Ivan's cock still in his mouth, Alfred tried to relax his muscles. Best to just get this over with… and when he did relax, it felt better. Not good, just not so bad.

But when Ivan's finger pushed deeper, Alfred felt something jolt through his body, and he groaned in pleasure. He jerked his hips back again, especially as Ivan began to massage that spot, intensifying Alfred's feeling when he reached his other hand over to pump Alfred's prick.

Ivan himself was getting close to orgasm. The heat was pooling in his abdomen, and he had to slow down his rhythm to delay the inevitable. He hastily pushed in another finger, even though he knew that Alfred wasn't quite ready.

Alfred groaned when he felt another digit being pushed in. It had begun to ache… but it still felt good as Ivan steadily massaged his prostate. He kept himself as loose as possible, so it wouldn't hurt too much. It was hard with the rope that still bound his ankles together…

Impatience was running through Ivan. This was taking too long… he removed his hands from Alfred's dick, using it to pull Alfred off his need. As soon as the warmth was gone, Ivan began to ache. He would get blueballs soon if he didn't hurry up. Propping Alfred up, he sat down, sliding the boy into his lap. He pushed the third and final finger in, now thrusting in and out. Alfred tensed up more than ever now, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. It had actually begun to hurt, and even with Ivan striking his prostrate, he couldn't completely banish the pain.

Ivan removed the fingers, taking the lube and dumping big globs all over his neglected dick. He hurriedly rubbed it in, too needy for words. Remembering at the last moment, he grabbed the knife, cutting away the rope at Alfred's ankles, and in his haste leaving red cuts that began to drip blood. As he lined up with Alfred's twitching asshole, the boy did something that made Ivan pause. Alfred buried his face in Ivan's shoulder, shivering softly. He knew what was about to happen, and from the fingers, he knew it was going to hurt. A lot. He was seeking comfort from someone, and seeing how Ivan was the only person in the room, it had to be him.

The Russian wrapped his arms around Alfred, gently pushing in. A broken sob left his victim, and Ivan stopped. As much as he wanted to pound into the boy above him, he wanted Alfred to return. His beautiful sunflower… placing kisses all over Alfred's face, Ivan pushed in deeper until he was fully sheathed inside the boy.

Alfred didn't know how he was still alive with all of the pain. He felt like he was being ripped in half, starting from his ass. Blood was leaking from his virgin hole, dripping onto the table, tricking down Alfred's leg, coating Ivan. He was sobbing now; barely able to deal with what was happening. Eventually, though, the piercing pain faded off into a dull ache, and he squeezed Ivan slightly, letting the Russian know that he was ready.

The only thing that Ivan was registering was how _tight _Alfred was. His tiny body shook from taking all of the Russian, and Ivan just wanted to let go of his reservations. But he could wait. He could wait for the boy's sake. So when Alfred's sobs died down into pained whimpers, and he squeezed Ivan ever so slightly, Ivan didn't hesitate in slowly pulling out, then pushing back in.

Alfred grimaced at the feeling of Ivan's slow movements. It didn't hurt as much as initial penetration, but it wasn't pleasant at all. He wished that Ivan would just come and be done with it.

As whimpers and cries escaped the Russian's victim, Ivan began to pick up a slow but steady pace, searching for that one spot that would make the boy see stars. He wanted to go faster, but he couldn't until-

_There. _Alfred cried out, though this time it was breathier, pleasanter. Alfred squeezed around Ivan, making the Russian grunt in pleasure. Pulling the boy away from his chest, Ivan looked directly at Alfred's face, beginning to pound into Alfred's sweet spot.

When Alfred first felt the jolt from his prostate being struck, it was like had been transported away from all of this, somewhere he was safe. So when Ivan sped up, Alfred felt like he was back in his paradise. Pain and pleasure mixing together, like black and white. Unconsciously, Alfred reached his handcuffed hands down, rubbing his prick, which had been wilting, to full hardness again.

Ivan could see the ecstasy in the boy's eyes, and triumph flooded through the Russian. He pushed Alfred onto his back, grabbing each of his legs and spreading them wide. Alfred whined at the sudden change of positions, but groaned when Ivan pushed back into him, deeper than before. Ivan was finally close, and he pressed his forehead against the boy's, staring straight into those sky eyes.

When Ivan began to push in deeper, Alfred couldn't help but cry out and moan. By now, his clumsy hands were pumping with wild abandon, chain clinking as he did so. It was too much – Ivan's forehead pressed against his, Alfred's own hands, the smell of sweat and sex and the ever-lingering cigarette smoke. Alfred hit his peak for the second time, splattering cum all over himself, even getting some on his cheek.

As Alfred came, his whole body tensed up, and Ivan groaned, letting the tightness bring him to a glorious climax. He managed to flop over to the side of Alfred, so not to crush the boy. They both lay there for some time, oddly peaceful now that orgasm had been achieved.

Eventually, Ivan came to his senses, pulling out of the boy and half-falling, half-dismounting the table. Resting on the surface, he searched around for the key to Alfred's handcuffs. He found it underneath a vibrator. Leaning over, he unlocked the sliver restraints.

When Ivan unlocked Alfred, the boy looked up, slight confusion in his eyes. He sat up slowly, pain from his ass sending jolts up his spine. Not to mention, the cuts on his ankles, the lashes on his chest, and the bruise on his shoulder… if Alfred could've seen himself, he would have cried. He reached behind his head, unstrapping the ring gag, spitting it out and massaging his jaw. That hurt too…

"You would like to clean yourself up, да?" Ivan asked sweetly. When Alfred nodded numbly, Ivan walked over to one of the drawers, opening it up and tossing Alfred a box of tissues. The boy grabbed a few, wiping his own bodily fluids off his face, chest, and stomach. After a moment, Alfred tentatively began to wipe his pained ass, which was leaking Ivan's cum.

The Russian was captivated by the sweet sight. After a few moments of staring, he came back to his senses, grabbing some other things from the chest – antiseptic, cloth, bandages, anti-swelling cream. He brought them over to Alfred, sitting on the table. "This will sting a bit," he warned the boy, pouring some of the antiseptic on the cloth. Alfred took a deep breath, closing his eyes as Ivan began to dab at his wounds. When Ivan was done cleaning, he grabbed the bandages, wrapping them around Alfred's chest and ankles.

As Ivan concentrated on Alfred's ass, the boy laid back, eyes distant. He was thinking about somewhere else. Not underneath the willow tree. Perhaps by Copper Stream, named so for the gold-colored flakes that glinted in the water. Yes, sitting by Copper Stream, underneath a canopy of vines and trees, sitting in a patch of bitterroot flowers. Mattie would be there, as well as mom and dad. Kiku, too, and Gilbert. They'd be drinking lemonade and laughing, enjoying the paradise…

"Fredka, Fredka, I'm talking to you." Alfred was dragged back into reality. He looked at Ivan dully. Did he want another round?

"Put on your clothes, Fredka, it's time to go home. Your mother must be worried." Alfred sat up, blurting "What?" Ivan chuckled.

"As flattered as I am that you want to stay here with me, you really should go home to your мать. It has been an hour and a half, after all." Ivan smiled sweetly, leaning down and picking up Alfred's shirt, shorts and boxers and handing the clothes to him. Alfred took them, staring at them as though they were priceless artifacts.

"I'm… not your prisoner?" Alfred asked quietly. Ivan giggled, patting Alfred's sunshine hair.

"Of course not, silly~!" His smile grew darker, and he pulled Alfred in close. "Of course, you can't tell anyone! Or I just might have to hurt them. We wouldn't want your precious Matthew getting hurt, would we?"

Alfred gasped. "H-how do you know about my baby brother?!"

"I've been watching you for quite some time now, Alfred F. Jones! I know all about you~" Ivan giggled at the horrified expression on Alfred's face. "So, Fredka, you won't tell anyone about this, will you? If you do, I'll just have to pay dear Marianne a visit!" Alfred nearly choked at the mention of his mother's name.

"N-no, I won't tell anyone," Alfred whimpered, covering himself up with his clothes. Ivan chucked at him, leaning over and kissing Alfred on the lips. The boy stiffened at the contact. That had been his real first kiss… taken by another guy who was at least in his twenties. It was sweet, lasting only for a few seconds before Ivan pulled away.

"Ah! Almost forgot. I put your shoes in Room Three, I'll go get them. Why don't you put on some clothes?" Ivan gave Alfred one last peck on the nose before leaving, shutting the door behind him. There were a few moments of silence before Alfred began to cry. He had been raped. He had been raped and he had _liked _it. Ivan didn't need to tell him never to say a word – Alfred couldn't bear the shame. His family, his friends… they could never know. Never. Chewing his lip, Alfred began to pull on his clothes, defeated.

_-_-ϔ -_-_

**Oh… my… god… I finished… *dies***

**Thirteen pages. THIRTEEN PAGES. I think this is the longest single chapter I've ever written… Anyways, please leave a comment if you liked, and if you didn't, well, you wouldn't be reading this far down.**

**Translations:**

**Да- yes**

**Маленький ребенок- little child**

**Может быть, я не буду делать свое наказание настолько серьезными, так как вы решили сотрудничать. – Maybe I will not make your punishment so bad, since you have decided to cooperate.**

**Шлюха - whore**

**Сука петух сосание – Cock sucking bitch**


	2. Cursive Words

**I'm sorry if this was such a long wait! Now that school is **_**finally **_**over (for me at least), I can dedicate my time to the lovely world of fanfiction. I also wanted to make it close in length to the first chapter, but it didn't quite work out that way. I'm really sorry that this is so short…**

**I have a quick something to say about this fanfiction – while this story will be a lot more sex-based than any of my other stuff I've written, there will not be a lemon in every chapter. I know, I know. Stupid Mari. But this isn't a multi-chaptered PWP, it does have a story. Just a story with a lot of shota sex. **

**NOTE: When I go off to college, I plan to go for a major in psychology. Until then, I don't know a whole lot about how the human mind works. I'm trying to make Alfred's reaction to being raped realistic, but I don't know if I'm doing it quite right. If you have any suggestions, please help me out in the comments :) **

**Disclaimer: Meh…**

**Warnings: Prostitution, pedophilia**

_-_-ϔ -_-_

The thin white paper was smooth between Alfred's fingertips as he rubbed it, seeking comfort in the tiny slip. It probably would have worked if not for the message neatly written on it in a fancy cursive that Alfred could barely read. He wished that he couldn't. At least then he'd have a good excuse for not going back to _that place._

The door opened, and Alfred gave a start, nearly crushing the note in his hands. As it was, he barely had time to slip it into his pocket before Dr. Honda looked up from a box of medical supplies he was carrying.

"Mr. Jones … how did you say you got those cuts again? I may need to disinfect them so they may properly heal…" Dr. Honda asked, setting down the box beside the examination table. Alfred smiled nervously, shifting slightly and causing the paper beneath him to crinkle. Alfred hated that sound.

"Oh, I, uh… was…" What had been the cover story, again? "I was… exploring! By the stream. Copper stream. There was this patch of flowers, y'know, really pretty red-colored ones, and I wanted to pick this one in the middle, so I started walking through 'em. What I didn't realize was that these flowers had thorns, so I guess my ankles got pretty badly cut up…" Alfred couldn't help but glance down. The cuts, vivid against his skin, looked even worse than before. Alfred half-wished he had just gone home. Maybe his parents wouldn't have even noticed the bandages…

Dr. Honda gave Alfred a long look. Alfred shifted again, wincing at the noise the paper made. He didn't understand any of Kiku's relatives. It was hard for Alfred to "read the mood" as his brother had put it, and interpreting what the Hondas were thinking about was especially challenging.

"Are you sure that's where you got these cuts? They seem very deep for thorn scratches, and very clean as well. They look more like slices from a knife…" If Alfred had been drinking something, he would have spat it out. As it was, he nearly hiccupped on the air.

"K-knife! Where would you get that idea?! W-why would I have knife cuts on my ankles, of all places? Dude, that'd be totally w-weird! The reason it's so clean is… I washed the cuts! In the stream. Y'know, 'cause you're always tellin' me to prevent infection and all that jazz…" Alfred trailed off, unsure if Dr. Honda would buy it.

"… Very well. I should disinfect the cuts nevertheless. There many water-related diseases, Mr. Jones. In the future, please do not use unfiltered water to wash your injuries."

Alfred breathed a silent sigh of relief, watching as Dr. Honda pulled out some bandages and disinfectant from the plastic box and lifted Alfred's leg slowly onto the examination table. So this hadn't been a completely awful idea after all. He knew if he had come home while wearing bandages, his mom and dad would know something was up. One does not simply find medical supplies lying out in the woods. However, if he had visited Dr. Honda first, that would be much more logical, and if his parents asked Dr. Honda about it later, he'd be able to back up Alfred's claim.

"This may sting a bit," Dr. Honda warned as he prepared to dab Alfred's cuts with the medicine. Alfred winced slightly, but he didn't otherwise react as Dr. Honda slowly cleared his wounds. It didn't hurt half as much as the first time that they had been cleaned…

Alfred closed his eyes. _No. _He would only think about that… event when he needed to. Chewing on his lip, Alfred breathed in deeply. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

It was no use. Ivan refused to go away, his smirk plastered against Alfred's eyelids like an annoying bumper sticker on a used car. The damn thing wouldn't go away. The looming thought that Alfred would never be able to forget was creeping in, making Alfred's heart beat faster with panic and his wounds throb. He felt itchy all over. He needed to take a shower, needed to wash Ivan away…

Alfred's eyes flew open, and he looked up at Dr. Honda. He noticed the movement and paused in his disinfecting. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Jones? I can slow down if I am hurting you too much."

"No," Alfred said, his voice breathy from panic "P-please, keep going…" He could _feel _Ivan all over him. Disgust boiled in his gut. He wanted to rip off his own skin, to stop the crawling, awful, dirty touches…

By now, Dr. Honda had completely stopped and was staring at Alfred with steady, brown eyes. Alfred suddenly was struck with the horrible feeling that Dr. Honda _knew_. He had to know! That probing gaze… Dr. Honda was probably as disgusted by Alfred as Alfred was disgusted by Ivan. Dr. Honda would tell Kiku not to be friends with him anymore. 'Sumimasen, Kiku, but I believe that Mr. Jones is a bad influence on you,' Dr. Honda would say, 'I don't want you associating with people who lose their virginity before the age of consent.' Kiku would be horrified in that quiet way of his, avoiding Alfred like the plague…

"Are you… feeling ill, Mr. Jones? You do not look well… Would you like me to call your parents to pick you up, perhaps?" Alfred was quiet for a moment. Could he face his parents in this state? But… he wouldn't have to walk home… what if he collapsed in the street? Or started screaming like a madman?

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, uh, that'd be great. Hopefully they wouldn't be mad…" What was he even saying? Alfred glanced at the clock. It had taken him about fifteen minutes for what's-his-face to drive Alfred from the red lights district to Dr. Honda's clinic, and Alfred had been here for about five minutes… It had nearly been two hours since Ivan had kidnapped Alfred on top of Willow Hill, as it was called. His parents were probably having a panic attack by now.

Dr. Honda nodded. "I will try to explain the situation to them as best as I can. However, I must first attend to your wounds. I cannot let you go home like this."

Alfred nodded again, deciding to lay back to avoid any further probing from the doctor. He decided to try what Kiku did when he panicked (though Alfred could never tell when that was). Alfred breathed in as deeply as he could in this position, trying to concentrate on the oxygen filling his lungs. As long as he followed the instructions on the paper, everything would be okay… his family would be fine, his friends too. No one had to die… As long as he kept everything a secret, he'd be fine. People wouldn't think any less of him as long as they didn't know. Alfred had to be a hero, for everyone else and himself.

"Mr. Jones , I am moving on to the bandages. Please tell me if I'm wrapping them too tightly."

"M'kay…" Alfred mumbled. He'd go home and take a shower. Surely he'd feel better once he was clean. He could do this. He could do this…

_-_-ϔ -_-_

"You never told me you had a son."

Ivan looked up from _The Fountainhead _at the small man sitting behind the desk. "I don't. Where would you get that idea?"

Yao gave him a strange look. "Then who was that boy, aru? It really isn't a great idea to bring children into this place. They could get all sorts of strange influences. American children today are already so… troublesome, aru. The less prostitutes and sex-slaves there are in coming generations, the better." Ivan snorted at this, slipping a woven bookmark between the worn pages and closing the book.

"The less whores there are in the world, the less customers you get, Yao. Honestly, how do you expect to run this sort of business if you're clutching onto old-world ideas about sex?" Yao flushed angrily. If there was one thing he hated, it was being called old-fashioned. His parents had only thought in a straight line. When Yao had come out to them, they were nearly angry enough to disown him. As it was, they never really spoke after that.

"That's not what I meant, aru! I just am trying to say that children are too young to be making these kinds of decisions. Anyways, you never answered my question! I didn't even see you or the child come in, aru. Why did you bring him in?"

Ivan chuckled. "That was the 'pet' I was talking about a few days ago. Alfred and I have an agreement."

Yao looked absolutely horrified. "_Him? _Ivan, he's just a child! I can't let you rent out a room with him! That's illegal, aru!"

Ivan stood up, walking from the waiting-room couches over to where Yao was sitting. Ivan placed his hands on the lacquered red wood, a slow smile spreading across his pale face. The Chinese man stiffened, eyes widening. "What isn't illegal about this whole business, eh Yao? I like Alfred a lot, and I've gone through a lot of trouble to get him here and get this agreement to work. You wouldn't let down an old _friend_ of yours, да?"

Yao cleared his throat nervously. "N-no, of course I'll help out a f-friend! Ah, where did I put those documents…" Yao ducked under the desk, trying to hide his trembling. Though it was true that Ivan and he were "friends" of sorts, Yao often wondered if it was all because of Ivan's terrifying demeanor.

"Here they are, aru!" Yao popped out from beneath the desk, holding a thin stack of paper. "U-um, just tell me what time you had in mind, and I'll see what I have available."

"Every Saturday night for two months." Ivan said immediately. "After that… we'll see. I also want a deluxe room, with all of the works. I understand today was a little different as it was somewhat of a spur-of the moment thing." Yao remembered how surprised he was when he came back from a bathroom break and found Ivan standing by the front desk, demanding that he be able to use a room on the second floor. He had also been carrying a pair of children's shoes and asked if he could put them in an empty room. Though he had been too confused to wonder about them at the time, Yao knew now that those must've been Alfred's shoes…

Yao pulled a small red planner out of his pocket, flipping through the pages until he reached June. Flipping between a few pages, he confirmed and looked up at Ivan. "Room 25 is free Saturday night for all of June and July. Is that acceptable, aru?"

"Perfect." Ivan quipped, picking up the official documents. "I will fill these out and hand them to you tomorrow." He held out a large hand. After a moment, Yao reached out his hand as well. They shook, Ivan's face strangely solemn.

Yao bit his lip softly. Ivan was very serious about this Alfred boy, he could tell. The whole thing was a bit strange to Yao. Yes, the boy was attractive, and perhaps as he matured he would turn sexy. But right now, he was just a cute face and a tiny body.

He wasn't a bad kid, either. Ivan had asked him to drive Alfred home, and Yao complied, on the condition Ivan watched the register. He was quiet most of the car ride, staring mournfully out the window. When Alfred gave Yao an address, he arrived at a clinic. When Yao gave Alfred a questioning look, Alfred just said "My dad's a doctor" and left.

Then again, Yao would be lying if he said he fully understood Ivan. He knew that the Russian man had many secrets. There had to be something about Alfred that Ivan was drawn to, something beyond looks or even personality. Either way, Yao was certain that it was none of his business anyways.

_-_-ϔ -_-_

One of the things that Alfred hated the most was worrying his mother. He didn't hate it enough to stop doing things that would cause the worry in the first place, but after the deed was done, his mother was oftentimes practically tearing her hair out, Alfred couldn't help but feel that awful twisting guilt in his stomach.

The feeling was hitting him now like a ton of bricks. Marianne was pacing back and forth in the living room, cursing under her breath in French. Alfred was so tempted to just tell her the truth, tell her it wasn't his fault, he was kidnapped by a pedophile psychopath. But he couldn't.

"Alfred, why didn't you call me?" Marianne practically wailed, "I was so worried! Especially since you didn't bring your brother with you! All alone out there… you could've been kidnapped, or worse!" Alfred winced at those words, but decided to just let his mother rant it out. "Two hours, Alfred, two hours! And then I get a call from Dr. Honda saying that you've been hurt and are feeling sick? _Non, non_, this will not do at all…"

"Are you gonna… tell dad?" Alfred asked tentatively. He felt a squeeze on his hand and he looked up, startled. Matthew was sitting next to him on the couch. The whole time his mother had been ranting, he had failed to notice the Canadian boy. It wouldn't be the first time either…

"Of course I am telling your father! He deserves to know what's going on!" Marianne huffed softly, sitting down on the loveseat next to the couch. "What's gotten into you, Alfred? I know you love to go on your little adventures, but you've always brought your phone, even if to just play Angry Birds or some other silly game. You can't just run off without a phone in this day and age. Even in Bluebird Valley, there are many bad people who could hurt you. Things are not safe in _Amérique _anymore…" Marianne pulled a strand of hair out of her loose ponytail and began to twirl it around one of her long, slender fingers, as she often did when she was stressed.

Alfred nibbled on his lip, glancing at the clock. It was nearly time for his dad to come home from lunch break. Generally, he was very nice, but when he got angry, it was terrifying. Marianne actually had to hold her husband back from cursing the two boys when they had accidentally dropped one of his magic books in Copper Stream. Alfred still didn't understand why his dad still liked to play with magic and fairies as an adult, but he soon realized that it was better not to question Arthur, as he got rather cranky whenever the subject was brought up.

As if sensing what he was thinking about, Marianne pointed towards the hallway where Alfred and Matthew's shared bedroom was, saying "Alfred, I want you to wait in your room until your father gets home. When he does… we'll see." As an afterthought, she turned to her younger son, saying "Matthew_, mon_ _cher_… you can… do what you please. Just don't leave the house, _ok?" _

"Okay," Matthew said, his voice barely above a whisper. Seeing his brother trudge down the hallway, he quickly ran after him. As soon as they entered the bedroom and closed the door, Matthew started interrogating his brother.

"Where were you? I was so worried, eh!" Matthew whispered, so as to not let Marianne hear. As it was, Alfred could barely hear his brother.

"If I didn't tell mom, why would I tell you?" Alfred snapped. "It's none of your business, Mattie!" The "younger" brother was quiet for a minute. Alfred realized the mistake he had made after a moment, and he put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Hey, sorry I yelled. It's… it's just a big secret, okay?"

Matthew suddenly blushed. Leaning in, he murmured "Al… were you… were you with a girl…?"

Alfred's head snapped back. "W-what? No way! Girls are… I dunno! Jeez Mattie, w-why'd you think that?"

Matthew's blush deepened. "Well, _maman _said that that this was the age that… we'd start wanting to kiss girls..." Alfred started to blush as well at this. Stupid Sex Ed…

"No way man! The only way I'd ever kiss a girl is if she was a super awesome heroine sidekick! Anyways, this has nothing to do with girls. Just… don't worry about it, okay?" Even though Alfred spoke confidently, he was unnerved by how close Matthew came to the mark. Alfred did have his first kiss today… though he wasn't lying when he said this had nothing to do with girls.

Alfred winced. Except for his mom… the thought of Ivan standing over Marianne's dead body with a knife in his hand wouldn't stop haunting him. There was no way he would be able to watch a slasher film now, not for a long time.

_-_-ϔ -_-_

The door was firmly shut, causing poor Yao to curse under his breath in Mandarin as he attempted to push it open with his shoulder. That was the one thing he didn't like about his house – the front door. It never wanted to cooperate with him, refusing to budge after a hard day's work.

After a minute or two of swearing, sweating and general struggling, Yao gave up and just rang the doorbell. After a few moments, there was a muffled "Hello?" from the other side.

"Mei, it's me, aru! The door is being stupid again!" Yao yelled, smacking the wood with the flat of his palm. The door swung open effortlessly (Yao was convinced Mei possessed some sort of magical ability to open things, such as front doors and cans of food). Mei was standing there, a bright smile on her face.

"Yao!" Mei cried. She was leaning against the doorway, her pose relaxed and welcoming. A very, _very _short pink dress was tightly fitted around her small frame, and Yao couldn't help but smile. How did she know? The pink dress was Yao's favorite. It was almost as if she knew that today was going to be a tough day for Yao, and he needed some cheering up. If Yao ever had to date a woman, it would have to be Mei. Of course, that wouldn't be very professional…

"How was your day?" Mei asked, stepping aside to let Yao walk in. He did so, sighing dramatically as he stepped over the threshold.

"It was just awful, aru! Ivan – you know, the Russian man – just came up and demanded that he have a room reserved for _two months! _He didn't even let me argue! What's even worse is that his 'whore' is just a boy! He's probably just eight, aru!"

Mei was stunned. Stepping back slightly, her chocolate eyes widened almost comically. "Eight…?" She whispered softly. "Is it… consensual?"

Yao bit his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. He really wanted to tell her it was, but the thing was that he wasn't even sure himself. Alfred had seemed so… quiet and suppressed during the car ride. Ivan was hard to read… he wasn't exactly a saint, but he wasn't _evil _per say… if he did do something like that…

"I don't know, aru. It's hard to tell without really knowing Alfred."

"Alfred… is that the boy?" Yao nodded absentmindedly. "Could I… speak to him? And Ivan?" The Chinese man's head whipped around to look at Mei. She was fidgeting nervously, but her gaze was steady.

"I… that's not a good idea, aru. What if… something bad happens? Ivan can be… unstable. What if he snaps and kills you? Not only would I lose my best harlot, but I would also lose my friend, aru!"

Mei smiled softly. "Ivan wouldn't kill me, he really isn't as awful as you think he is. He just makes bad decisions sometimes. And Alfred… Yao, I think I can help him, and God knows he needs help. If not Ivan, at least let me talk to Alfred."

Yao sighed softly, running his fingers through his ponytail. "… I'll see what I can do. No promises, aru! But I can try." Mei grinned widely, practically tackling Yao out of happiness.

"Thank you so much! I promise you won't regret it…"

_-_-ϔ -_-_

**Dr. Honda is not Kiku – he's Kiku's father. He's an OC, but don't worry, we won't go into much detail about him. Just clearing that up to make sure people aren't confuzzled. **

**I wasn't really sure what kind of novel Ivan would be reading, so I chose **_**The Fountainhead **_**on a whim. I've never actually read the book myself, so if you have any better suggestions for things Ivan would be interested in, please tell me in the comments :) **

**If you're confused about what exactly Yao is doing, well, here's an explanation. He runs a building that's kind of like a sex hotel. He rents out to both pimps and whores who work alone. Yao actually "owns" a few prostitutes himself (including Mei), but mostly the building is used for people who need a place to fuck. The rooms are in varying shades of "quality" – for example, the low-quality ones have basically a bed and some lube. The room in the first chapter was a more "kinky" room and therefore higher quality (and also more expensive). The "deluxe" rooms have almost everything – sex toys, BDSM equipment, costumes, ect. The low quality rooms are on the bottom floor and are numbered from one to ten. The middle rooms are one the second floor and the deluxe on the third floor.**

**I have nothing against Chinese! I there are probably plenty of conservative parents who have gay children and accept it wholeheartedly. Yao just connects being ostracized with tradition. **

**Yao and Mei do not get together in this fic, if it seems like that. Yao **_**is **_**gay – while I do believe that if someone is attracted to someone else, gender shouldn't really matter, Yao isn't attracted to Mei, he is just really good friends with her. **

**From now on, I'm going to assume that you guys recognize basic "yes", "no" and "hello" in most languages, so I won't put translations for that.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed!**


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